


Bedside Tea

by lulebell



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulebell/pseuds/lulebell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock reacts to a botched kidnapping of Joan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedside Tea

**Author's Note:**

> Beta thanks to the lovely serenitymeimei.

"You weren't hard to find." Sherlock was hovering over a doctor, watching intently as each stitch pierced Joan's delicate skin. He counted how many times she winced. "I solved this one pretty easily. Took me less than a half hour to figure out who he was."

"You should be proud of yourself."

"It is indeed another feather in my cap," he said absently. "Lucky for you, Watson, otherwise you'd probably be dead."

The doctor looked at Joan for her reaction, but she didn't give Sherlock's comment a second thought. After all, he was probably right.

Nabbed, beaten and stuffed into the trunk of a nearby car close to their shared brownstone home by someone, for reasons she still didn't know. She heard something - yelling and a loud thud before the trunk lid popped open and Sherlock pulled her out and took her to the hospital.

She slid off the bed as the doctor finished his work, trying to block out Sherlock's comments about his steady hands and how hers were probably better in their glory days, but having suffered a rather serious blow to the head, she wobbled on her feet. He was at her side immediately, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close for support.

"I'm sure you'll want to hear all about how I rescued you," he continued as he lead her out of the busy ER.

"Of course," she lied. All she cared about was her bed and that she wasn't in it.

"It was a rather easy deduction," he said brightly as he hailed a cab and opened the door for her. "The suspect's car was the key..."

She held his attention for as long as she possibly could before succumbing to the pain in her head. She closed her eyes against the sound of his voice prattling on and on.

//

He noticed that she hadn't said a word since before they left the hospital and that didn't change even after he got her upstairs and into her room. He found her silence strange; he had grown to expect the sound of her voice, even during the most unwanted moments, over the past few weeks. His excitement over being right slowly changed when she wasn't sharing in it. He didn't want to admit that he had been more than a little frantic so he filled the silence the only way he knew how.

He dove into an complex explanation of how people react to traumatic events while she faced her bed and pulled a light quilt off it and wrapped it around her shoulders. She let it hang loosely around her body as she began to strip off her dirty clothes, completely aware that he was watching her every move.

"You may find that your sleeping and eating habits change in the coming days. That's perfectly normal."

He watched her step out of the crumpled heap of clothing, pull back the comforter and got into bed, her back facing him. He approached the bed until he couldn't go any further and sat on the bed without hesitation.

"It's difficult to say exactly what will happen to you in the coming days. You may even develop a mild case of agoraphobia."

Normally, she'd have had any number of snappy comebacks on the tip of her tongue but tonight, all she could do was roll onto her side and squeeze her eyes closed against the pain in her head. The motion was enough to take notice and to finally stop talking.

But he didn't know how to simply stop and she could feel that radiating from his body. She could feel his mind start to race as boredom began to set in. His hands began to shake and he started shaking his leg and fixating on a random spot on the wall. But it stopped just as suddenly as it started, dissipating instantly, like cool water on a burn, when she laid a hand on his arm.

It took him a moment, but he covered her hand with his own and they simply sat there together for a few minutes, before he stood and leaned down, brushing his lips against her skin, close to her wound but not close enough to hurt her any further.

"Next time, Watson," he whispered, "I expect you to challenge me a little harder."

"I'll do my best." Her promise was genuine.

He released her hand and she was asleep instantly. When she finally awoke, he was gone, but in his place stood a cup of hot, fresh tea steaming on her bedside table.


End file.
